810 & 812
by Moriyasha Neko-hime
Summary: A little love for Shimura Shinpachi and Takasugi Shinsuke on their birthdays. Just a couple one-shots, that I think I will continue each year. Various Universes and Pairings.
1. 8-10-2013

**There just isn't enough Gintama fanfiction. I've been working on this for a while, and I think I'll write something for Shinsuke and Shinpachi every year. Hope you all like this, this is my first actually Gintama fic. Be nice.**

**Oh, yeah. **

**I DO **_**NOT**_** OWN GINTAMA.**

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**The Butterfly Kimono**

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It was a small shrine, just a shack with a pair of sliding doors and hardly any room inside, but it was enough. The shrine was tucked far away from prying eyes. He just needed a place to stop and catch his breath. Shinsuke had bound his injuries enough that he hadn't left a trail of his own blood after him, so with any luck, no one would notice or find him. After a quick rest, he would move on. That was his plan. He didn't even realize that he had dozed off until he woke up.

He doubted he had been asleep very long at all—a few minutes at the most—but he awoke due to the hurried steps approaching his hiding place, as well as a rather meek voice, calling out. "Neko-kun, you can't go in there!"

Before Shinsuke could devise a plan, the footsteps quickened and the partially-closed door was pushed open. Just wide enough to let someone small through. The little grey cat that dashed by the samurai didn't even spare him a glance. But the young boy that came scurrying after it immediately stopped.

Dark eyes went wide at the sight of him, sitting within the shadows and just out of sight. Whether it was his very presence or the blood flowing from his multiple wounds, the boy's fear was obvious and Shinsuke couldn't help but smile smugly at him. Almost daring him to say or do something.

As if that was a trigger, the boy turned back around and dashed away.

The samurai sighed lightly, certain that the boy's parents or someone would be brought over to find him and he would be dealt with however they saw fit. Letting his intact eye drift closed again in exhaustion, he wondered if fighting his way out would be worth the effort. He was tired, hungry and thirsty. He was so thirsty…

"Here…"

His good eye snapped open again at the weak little voice. Shinsuke wondered if he had dozed off again, not to have heard the boy's return. But surprise lit up his pale face when he found the boy holding out a wood ladle, filled to the brim with water.

"Water…It's water…" He offered in a small voice, his hands trembling slightly—either from fear or the effort to keep the water contained.

Shinsuke was shocked, to say the least. He wasn't about to deny the offer, he was so thirsty, but his body immediately screamed in protest and fought against him when he tried to move. He grit his teeth when he felt the wound on his side reopened just slightly and burn through his senses. Fearful, but oddly determined, the boy inched closer, bringing the dipper to his lips. When the first drop hit his tongue, Shinsuke found a sudden burst of strength and gripped the boy's wrist as he hastily swallowed the water down.

Had water always tasted so good? His throat was so dry it burned when he breathed, and the water was a blessed relief from the inferno.

The boy hurried away and came back three or four more times with water.

Finally, with the boy sitting not even a foot away from him, Shinsuke slipped away from the waking world and into silence.

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_It was burning hot and freezing cold. The sky was black, but the ground was white._

_But it wasn't snow. The ground was solid, dry and dead. _

_He almost convinced himself that it was rocks under his feet and not broken bits of bone. _

_As he looked out to the horizon, the bones became whole, forming complete bodies. Most looked human. Others less than._

_Nothing moved, not even the wind. He was alone in this wasteland. _

_Silence. Burning cold._

_That was all. And he accepted it._

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When he again opened his remaining eye, he was alone. Also, from the pale light against the paper of the sliding doors, it was morning.

The aches and pains of his wounds had settled. His muscles and joints were stiff from his sleep settling his injuries. It hurt to move at all. Could he risk staying here for much longer? How many hours had he been unconscious? How much longer did he have before someone came looking for him?

"Are you still here…?"

Not so much surprised as he was baffled by the small voice coming from beyond the sliding doors, Shinsuke kept silent. He kept a firm grip on his sword as he listened to the sound of light footsteps move from one end to the other. Finally, the door slid open, and the same boy from the day before peeked in. Upon spotting the injured man, he pulled his head back out with a pitiful squeak.

A rather long moment of silence followed.Shinsuke wondered if the boy had actually run away.But soon enough, the boy came back. He pushed something bound in a big green cloth through the door, followed by a pail full of water, and finally he slowly climbed inside with a polite, "Excuse me…"

Shinsuke watched as the boy brought everything over, opened the bundle and took out a series of items—bandages, bits of cloth, a small jar of salve, an old-looking shirt, a canteen, and even a _bento_. To say this wasn't odd would be untrue. Still, the boy was offering both the canteen and the box. He had gone through the trouble to bring all of these things. And Shinsuke thought it safe to assume that the kid hadn't told anyone about him, and was thus safe enough to accept what help he was offering.

He took several generous gulps of water from the canteen, but left the lunch box alone for the time being. He watched the boy take one cloth and soak it in the bucket of water, then wring it out before he offer it to the wounded samurai. As brave as the kid was to approach him, Shinsuke assumed he was still scared enough to not want to get too close. Drained but attentive, he struggled and eventually made it out of his battle-torn garments enough to clean his wounds properly.

"Were you fighting…?" The small boy asked quietly. "A-At Edo Castle…?"

Shinsuke smiled grimly as he sat up, hissing as he disturbed his many injuries. "If I was?"

The boy said nothing further—clearly scared back into silence—instead opting to unroll some clean bandages. The kid proved to be a little clumsy—somehow knotting the bandage while unrolling it—so the samurai was also left to bind his own wounds. He honestly preferred to take care of his injuries himself most of the time—on the battlefield, you usually had to—so it wasn't incredibly difficult.

What he truly dreaded was having to take care of his eye. The damage to his left eye was not as fresh as the rest of his wounds, but still recent enough that he had to clean it often enough so that it didn't get infected. He had had some help the first few times, so it was safe enough. But tending to a serious injury that he couldn't even see was hard to work with.

"Hey, kid—" The boy actually jumped, "—how old are you?"

"Uhh… I-I'm eight…sir…"

"Ten years my junior," mused Shinsuke mildly. "You ever bandage up anyone's head before?"

"Yes," he seemed more confident with this answer. "Yes, sir, I have."

"Then you can help me," Shinsuke shifted forward a little as he started undoing the bandages over his eye. The boy's meager confidence seemed to deflate as he quickly caught on to what he would have to do. But rather than backing away like the samurai expected, he moved closer. His discomfort was clear on his young face, but he seemed determined to help, nonetheless. He'd gone this far, why not further?

The dried blood that came off with the bandage made them both wince, but they were both determined to take care of his eye as quickly as possible. Shinsuke carefully washed his face as the boy started wrapping a long strip of bandages around his head, then brought some of the cloth down across his eye. Overall, the process went smoother than it would have if the samurai had attempted it on his own.

"Does that…feel okay…?" Asked the boy carefully.

Shinsuke nodded with a relieved sigh as he leaned back against the wall, worn out by the activity of cleaning and patching himself up again.

"I have to head back home now," the boy said as he raised the article of clothing he had brought. "This is one of Hajime-nii's old shirts, so he let me have it. And I pulled a little bit of food together for you. My sister didn't cook it, so you won't die."

Shinsuke actually wondered if he should ask after that last part, but decided he was too tired to bother. He didn't send any well wishes after the boy, and he was similarly quiet as he slipped back out into the sunlight and disappeared again.

He would come back later that afternoon, only long enough to leave more food and hurry off again.

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The boy came back the next morning with more food and water. Presenting him with some riceballs and a couple cold fish, Shinsuke ate slowly and silently. Sitting across from him, he watched him in an oddly comfortable silence, his dark eyes bright and eager.

As the boy finished packing things back up, Shinsuke couldn't help asking, "Why are you bothering to help me, anyway?"

The child was visibly startled by his question. But he almost instantly dropped his gaze to the floor and put his hands in his lap. "I don't know what else I can do… I'm slow, and clumsy, and kind of stupid… I can't do anything by myself…I just wanted…to help _somebody_…!"

It was a good sentiment, and given the current state of their country, an understandable one.

"Why not help that sister you mentioned? Or your parents?"

At this, the boy seemed to shrink, even as his eyes burned with anger. "Nee-san doesn't need help. She's stronger than me," he said. "And my stupid dad could care less about me."

Shinsuke didn't prod him about how he made no mention of his mother.

"I wish I was older. Then I could have fought against the Amanto, too!"

At this, however, Shinsuke couldn't help laughing out loud. "I don't really know if that would have changed the outcome…"

"But…!" The boy started, but then his face fell as he accepted the truth of this. "But still…"

"Don't bother worrying about it," Shinsuke sighed, laying down and turning on his side. "It's all done now. Nothing will change what's already happened."

_Fallen friends. Comrades. Brothers in arms. Warm hands now ice cold._

_A head with long, pale hair lying atop a dirty blanket. Cold, empty eyes that were once warm and kind._

"Nothing."

It was a long, tense silence before the boy asked, "What am I supposed to do, then?"

Shinsuke heard his question, and actually pondered over it. The war was officially lost. The Shogunate was in complete cooperation with the Amanto. Already, Samurai were being stripped of their swords and livelihood. Already, the air was growing stale as the sky became cluttered with trash.

"At this point, you can only do one of two things," he finally said, rolling onto his back to look at the boy. "You can accept this world, this life, and lay down your pride and rot in the streets with the rest of the garbage that is humanity."

"…Or?" The boy's voice nervously prompted.

"Or…we can simply do away with it all," Shinsuke found he could actually smile at the kid, though he felt no mirth about his words. "That sounds nice, doesn't it? Just _end_ the world. Make it all go quiet and still. That would be perfect, wouldn't it?"

The boy said nothing in response to this. He just sat there, staring back at him with a look of mixed fear and uncertainty. Likely, the boy couldn't understand, much less like either choice laid out before him. But truly, that was all that was left.

A slow, fester of life.

A sudden, inexplicable death.

That was all that remained for them. For anyone.

Hoping he might actually pass away in his sleep, Shinsuke drifted off before the boy left.

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The next day, when Shinsuke woke up sometime in the afternoon, he was not surprised that the boy had not come. Likely, their last topic of discussion was finally enough to scare the kid away. And while Shinsuke could certainly use the daily meals that he brought to help him to recover his strength, he couldn't stay in this shack for too much longer.

He hardly looked presentable, his wounds weren't fully healed, and he had no idea where he could go. But go he must.

Picking himself up, he instantly felt the stiff pain of his joints protest the action. His muscles had stiffened further due to his inactivity. Carefully, using the wall to support him, he crossed the small space between his resting place and the door. It took much longer than he would have liked, but he had only himself to blame for failing to work himself properly.

He made it to the door, sliding it open and wincing at the golden light of the setting sun that burned over the horizon and directly into his good eye. At least he would have the cover of evening to keep a low profile, everyone would be too tired from their own day to pay him any mind—no matter how stiffly or awkwardly he walked.

He braced himself for the long-short struggle to reach the bottom of both the shrine steps as well at the stone stairs that led to the city.

When suddenly, he saw the boy that had been visiting him come running up the steps.

He was covered in sweat and dirt, with a few scrapes and bruises, and looked ready to pass out from whatever struggles he had faced. But he persisted on his hurried course, not stopping until he reached the tiny shrine when Shinsuke waited. There, he fell to his knees, gasping and heaving, and not once losing his grip on the wrapped bundle tight against his small chest.

For whatever reason, his own exhaustion or curiosity or curiosity, Shinsuke sat down on the wood steps of the shrine as the kid struggled to catch his breath. "So? What's up?"

The boy swallowed a couple times to get air back into his lungs, before holding out the bundle he carried. "For…you…"

The bundle was actually a black box wrapped in aged paper, though it still appeared in better condition than the child who brought it. Taking it, Shinsuke unwrapped it and lifted the smooth, black lid. Inside was a kimono. A rather pretty piece of dark violet silk, lined with gold, and covered in gold butterflies. The pattern alone made it clear that this was a woman's kimono, so he had to wonder why the kid had brought it to him.

"Pretty," he offered. "What's it for?"

It was another few moments before the boy finally caught his breath enough to actually speak. During which time, Shinsuke simply sat and waited, offering no help. Given his condition, he didn't feel like pushing himself to fetch some water from the nearby well. But he sat and waited until the kid was ready.

"Day after tomorrow is my birthday," the boy finally said, his words sullen as he pulled his knees against his chest. "Everybody said that we needed to sell everything in storage for presents, but I knew they were lying. _No one_ celebrates my birthday, so I knew they were lying." He got up and clambered up to sit beside Shinsuke. "The people taking everything were just looking for anything valuable. My stupid dad has a lotta debts, and he's always selling stuff to make payments."

Shinsuke had long since known that the way of the samurai was in its decline since the Amanto came. The schools and such were being either outright destroyed or slowly taken apart, piece by piece until they fell into decay.

_Burning. Fire ate everything without mercy. Leaving only cold, black bones._

"I know junk like that is normal," the boy suddenly went on, snapping Shinsuke back to the present. "I know that! But I hate that he lied to me about it!"

Shinsuke returned the lid to the box and once again bound it in paper. "Why bring it to me, then?"

The boy looked at him, but quickly lowered his dark eyes again to his feet that hung off the ground. "I thought about it and I…I want you to have it. I'm giving it to you."

"Again, why?" The swordsman asked, confused and surprised, but hiding it well.

"I thought about it real hard," the boy repeated. "And… Well… I don't have much. But you don't have anything. So I thought it would be better if I gave it to you. So long as my dad doesn't sell it, it's fine."

'_Ah, so it's more about getting back at his father,'_ Shinsuke nodded thoughtfully. Out loud, he asked, "But suppose_ I _decide to sell it?"

The boy visibly flinched, but surprisingly did not object. "If that's what you want to do with it, it's yours," he said. "It-It was my mom's…so I've been told. It's really pretty, and probably worth something, but…I just didn't want _them_ to have it."

Better to dispose of it yourself than let it fall into enemy hands. Shinsuke could understand that.

"But what if your old man really did want to do something nice for your birthday?"

At this, the kid's entire form wilted. Every tense muscle in his small body went lax and his head bowed. "He wouldn't do that. He's never done that. No one does anything for my birthday."

"Why not?" Shinsuke was starting to feel like all he'd done today was ask questions.

"When I was born, my mother died."

The air went silent around them, and somehow, Shinsuke couldn't find anything to say to such an admission. It was understandable for the boy to blame himself, but for his own father and those around him to do so was beyond despicable.

'_This world really is worthless…'_

"When is your birthday, anyway?" Shinsuke finally asked.

"August 12th, day after tomorrow," the boy replied quietly.

Shinsuke blinked in surprise. It was already August? The 12th? So that would make today…

The one-eyed young man couldn't help laughing. It was so sudden that the boy actually jumped in his seat, watching him warily.

"That's very interesting," Shinsuke sighed, feeling oddly refreshed after his laughter. "The 12th of August is your birthday. The 10th of August is mine."

The boy blinked, his big brown eyes widening in surprise. "Today? Really? Today is your birthday? How old are you?"

"Nineteen," the swordsman smiled. "And you are ten years and two days my junior. That's too funny." His one eye was once again drawn to the wrapped box in his lap. "In light of that fact, I think I can accept this as a sort of birthday present."

The kid looked genuinely relieved and happy. But at the same time, he appeared oddly prickly. "But…I sorta feel bad now. I gave you something, but it wasn't for the right reasons."

"I'm satisfied with this," Shinsuke assured him, patting the box lightly.

"But I gave you that just because!" The boy insisted. "I should give you something because it's your birthday today…" He dug around in his sleeve until his found what little money he carried with him. "I don't have much, but can go buy you something sweet! Nothing nice, but…" He hopped down and smiled brightly up at the samurai. "There's a small candy shop not too far away. I'll go buy you some caramels as a birthday present!"

And with that, he turned and hurried away to his task.

Waiting until he couldn't see or hear him anymore, Shinsuke once again struggled to his feet. It was a little easier this time, though still painful. And following the stone stairway, step by careful step, the swordsman left the shrine behind him.

And amidst his plans to leave Edo, find somewhere safe to hide himself away, he wondered if the boy would cry when he returned to find him gone.

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Takasugi Shinsuke was awoken from his dream by the quiet but incessant calling of his name.

"Shinsuke-sama…Shinsuke-sama…Shinsuke-sama…"

Matako knew better than to actually touch him and shake him awake. A true samurai, he kept his sword with him everywhere he went to eat or sleep, and would respond to any sudden touch in the worst way.

Blinking the sleep from his unbound eye, the man beheld the young blonde with a mild sigh. "Yes?"

"Dinner is ready, Shinsuke-sama," she smiled, a warm flush to her skin.

Ignoring the adoration in her eyes as he stretched life back into his sleeping muscles, Shinsuke picked himself up to head to the dining room.

He didn't expect the grand feast of all his favorite dishes laid out on the tatami. Nor for most of his to be gathered there, looking as pleased with themselves as anything. Kamui was even there, with Abuto, ever at his side, and his bright smile bigger than usual. Bansai sat in his usual corner, his _shamisen_ in his lap and a particular smile on his face that made Shinsuke pause in realization.

Today was…

"Happy Birthday, Shinsuke," the black-clad assassin said with a strum of his instrument.

And with that, everyone cheered and the celebrations began. Ushered to his seat of honor, he was immediately offered a cup of wine and a plate of food. Saying nothing, he merely accepted, as he did every year.

It was an event they never failed to find the time and money for. Every year, good food, drink and music filled the boat in celebration. While he could have easily gone without it, he decided that it wasn't bad to celebrate something every now and again. For the others, Shinsuke was someone they could celebrate. He was someone they would gladly honor with food and song. (This year, he suspected the food would run out fairly quickly with Kamui and his huge appetite.) He supposed that it wasn't wrong to want to celebrate a life—even if there was nothing in life worth such festivity—so long as it made someone happy.

Out of nowhere, he remembered a small boy covered in dirt and bruises, who no one celebrated.

Shinsuke was honestly surprised at himself. He hadn't thought about that shrine or that odd little boy in over a decade. Honestly, he had found it ridiculous to think about early on and forgotten his short stay there completely until that dream. So why now? What stirred this memory to life again after all this time?

Turning away, Shinsuke's single eye drifted out the open window to the setting sun. It was the same color as it had been that August 10th so many years ago.

After several refills to his cup, a few additions to his plate and three shots from Matako at Kamui, Shinsuke felt relaxed enough to consider something he knew was ridiculous. Maybe, if he was still thinking about it when he was completely sober. Maybe if he could find it again. Maybe if it was still around.

Maybe he would find the time to go visit that shrine day after tomorrow.


	2. 8-12-2013

**Okies! Now for the Shinpachi side. This is connected to Takasugi's and hopefully won't make your eyes bleed. The title for this shot comes from the fact that August 12****th**** is when the Perseid Meteor Shower is supposed to happen.**

**I STILL ****D**_**ON'T**_** OWN GINTAMA.**

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**Perseus**

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On August 10th, Gin-san asked the very last question he wanted to hear.

"Yo, Shinpachi! What do you want for your birthday?"

Shinpachi had been doing dishes at the time, and was momentarily grateful he hadn't been making dinner. Recovering quickly, he didn't turn to look at his employer as he answered. "I don't need anything."

"Don't be like that," the jack of all trades sighed, scratching his shaggy silver head. "Birthdays are important times that demand celebration. As such, the one born on that day is entitled to being spoiled at least a little bit."

"Funny you should say that," the bespectacled youth said flatly, "considering how long this manga has been running, and how many seasons have passed, and not once have we had a birthday chapter for anyone, to my knowledge. In fact, I am _still_ marked as a sixteen year-old. I don't see why you would want to bring it up _now_ after missing the mark all these years."

"Why dwell on the past?" Gintoki smiled, hoping the nervous sweat on his brow wasn't obvious.

"I don't need anything," Shinpachi repeated coolly.

Gin blinked, noting the total lack of interest in the boy's reply. There should have at least been some sort of scolding involved when someone didn't remember to celebrate your birthday. But there was nothing. No anger or sadness. Not even any boredom.

Later that day, just as Shinpachi was packing up to head home, Kagura tackled him and settled on his back.

"Yo, Pastuan!"

"Yesh…?" Came his muffled reply against the floor.

"I was thinkin'—what'cha want for yer birthday?"

"…Nuffing…"

"Whaaaat?" The younger teen tilted her head, a piece of sukonbu hanging from her lip. "Not even a box of Pocky? Or a PS3? Or a new apron or vacuum? What about wood polish or glass cleaner?"

"Why are you drifting into house-cleaning supplies?" Shinpachi groused as the girl got off his back so he could stand up. "I don't need anything for my birthday, okay?"

"You must want something," the red-haired Yato sighed, determination written all over her pale and pretty scrunched face. "Ooh! I know! We can throw a party! With balloons and cookies and candies and cakes and junk and stuff!"

"If you want to have a party, do it for yourselves," Shinpachi said. "I don't need it."

To say Kagura was confused and a little miffed that her idea and offer was so easily set aside would be an understatement. The least the boy could do was show a little gratitude that they were trying to give him something nice. But she only became even more befuddled when Shinpachi continued down the hall, and left the Yorozuya without a backwards glance or another word of farewell.

The next day, August 11th, Gintoki and Kagura made an effort of looking through magazines and watching TV to find something Shinpachi might like. He would have liked to ignore them and move on with his daily chores, but it was hard when they stopped him every few minutes to point at something they found and not-so-casually say, "That's pretty cool, huh? What do you think?"

He would sometimes agree, other times not. When they started to point out things that they themselves would like, he had hoped they would lose track and forget the whole thing. But the entire day was endured without a single shout or throwing of laundry in retaliation to their persistence.

Finally, around 5 o'clock, Shinpachi was serving and said, "I'm taking tomorrow off."

"You and your sister have plans for your birthday? A private party, maybe?" The silver-haired man smiled as he picked at his ear. "There's no harm in letting us attend, too, y'know."

"That's right!" Kagura chirped as she hopped up to sit on Gintoki's desk, munching down the snacks Shinpachi had set out for tea. "We can buy and cake and balloons and candy and—"

"There's no party or anything," Shinpachi was quick to cut her off. "I've never had one. So I don't need it."

"Never had one?" Both the Shiroyasha and Yato blinked in confusion. But Shinpachi's aloof expression said nothing further. Gin sat back, sighing as he failed to understand what the boy was about. "Okay. Why are you taking the day off, then?"

The bespectacled youth was quiet, but the air around him buzzed with some sort of anxiety. All the same, he managed to pull up a small smile. "Tomorrow, we're going to visit my Mother's grave," he finally said. "Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day she died."

To say this didn't shock Sakata Gintoki and his young charge Kagura would have been a lie. It was the very last thing they expected. It was the very last thing they wanted to hear. Because it was the answer to their boy's puzzling attitude about his own birthday.

What more could Gin do but allow Shinpachi the day off.

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The day was sunny and warm, and Otae carried her blue parasol to keep cool. The flowers they had chosen were bright and happy. Otae assured him that their Mother would love them. Shinpachi had no knowledge to say otherwise, and simply accepted his sister's opinion.

Cleaning their family tombstone and setting the flowers and manju before it, they offered their prayers to the departed. Really, it was finished in good time, all things considered. The siblings still had more than half the day left to themselves.

"There's a festival going on later today," Otae smiled brightly as they started down the walkway to leave the graveyard. "We could go and have some fun, Shin-chan!"

"Maybe," Shinpachi shrugged noncommittally.

"If you wanted, you could actually spend the day with Gin-san and Kagura-chan," she went on easily. "Oh! I'm sure they would love to come to the festival tonight. We can all go together!"

"Maybe," he repeated with no more interest than before.

Otae noticed her brother's lack of enthusiasm. It was hard not to. And she understood completely. She was ashamed of just how much of a hand she had in it.

"Aneue, I think I'll take a walk," Shinpachi suddenly announced. "I remember there being a small shrine over that way—" he waved towards a small, over-grown path on the other side of the graveyard, "—and it's been a while since I last visited. I'll see you later."

It was rare that Shinpachi didn't at least wait for Otae's reply. That he had done so today only made her bow her head in sadness and shame. Every year, he had always been anxious to be alone and hidden away from everyone, including her. She had hoped that things would change after Gin-san and Kagura-chan had become a part of his life, but she had yet to notice such.

She did, however, immediately notice the head of frosty hair waiting for her just beyond the entrance to the graveyard.

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Shinpachi hadn't gone this way for over a decade. He hadn't even thought about it. With how overgrown the path was, he doubted anyone else had come this way either. But walking after his sister, listening to her struggle, his gaze had wandered to find something else to focus on and inevitably found the trail.

But even with the trees, bushes and grass choking out the path. Even with the years separating him from the last time he had come here. Even knowing he wasn't likely to find anything. He still remembered the way.

Climbing the decrepit steps, struggling a little in the late summer heat, Shinpachi made it to the top with a sigh. From here, he could always see the clear blue sky perfectly, and he was happy to find that had not changed. The shrine had certainly fallen to ruin—though he was relieved that the well still provided clean drinking water—he was certain that in just another couple years it would collapse completely and be nothing but a pile rotted pile of wood and forgotten prayers.

Circling the structure, Shinpachi could remember playing here with his sister and other kids in his youth all the time. But as time went on, he was the only one that kept coming. Until finally even he had abandoned this place. He didn't know his sister's reason, or the reasons for the departure of the other children. He did, however, remember his own. He had forgotten for a while, but during his first year with Gin-san, he remembered. During the Benizakura incident when—

Shinpachi was startled to find someone else was standing before the shrine. His presence immediately made the stranger turn to look at him, and they found themselves just staring at each other.

He was a tall man, with a straw hat on his head that mostly hid his face and a sword at his side, and he wore a dark purple kimono.

A pretty, but rather worn piece of dark violet silk, lined with gold, and covered in gold butterflies.

He never knew his Mother, but Shinpachi had never forgotten the kimono he had stolen from his Father and given to a hapless samurai seeking shelter within the very shrine that lay crumbling before him. He had not truly expected the man to keep it, let alone wear it. But he had never forgotten the pattern.

Shinpachi could see the man smile, the action making him think of a sword being drawn, but held his ground as he loosened the ties of his hat and pull it off. He already knew the man would be missing his left eye, and that clean white bandages would cover that side of his face. He knew that his right eye would be dark, but strangely dull and uninterested in whatever he looked at.

In that brief moment aboard the Kiheitai ship when the man had appeared behind the disguised Kastura-san years ago, Shinpachi had been shocked by too many things to sort out.

Maybe the stranger was surprised as well. Even as a light chuckle escaped him, he didn't appear certain of the boy before him. But he eventually came to a decision as he lowered his hat and nodded to the youth.

"Hello, August Twelfth," Takasugi Shinsuke smiled coolly.

Shimura Shinpachi inclined his head just slightly in greeting. "Hello…August Tenth…"

The two were silent for a long moment after that, simply taking in each other's appearance. Shinpachi felt every muscle except those in his legs jump as the man moved to find a section of the shrine that was in good enough condition to sit. Takasugi pulled out his pipe, lit it and started smoking. And still, there was nothing to say.

What _could_ Shinpachi say? He was already sweating from the exercise of walking here, but now he was nervous as hell to be around this man. From what little he knew about him, Shinpachi could deduce he was an old comrade of Gin-san's and now a devout enemy, and that he was ruthless to just about everyone. Frankly, the boy had no clue how to talk to him.

"You got bigger," the man suddenly said, startling his younger companion. "And you look different with glasses. I didn't realize that you had grown up into Gintoki's little cub."

Shinpachi didn't know if Takasugi was making fun of him or just stating an observation, the man's tone was oddly mellow. But he found it in him to let it slide. It had been years, and they had never really known each other's names. Really, it was pure chance they met again at all. "_I _knew it was you, from the very first moment. I never forgot that kimono," he said, motioning to the pattern on the purple fabric. "I used to look at it a lot before I gave it to you."

"Does it look good on me?" Takasugi smiled, running his hand down the front of his clothes.

"Better than it would on most men," the boy shrugged. "Myself included." He was startled by the man's sudden laughter at that, and was somewhat confused.

"You have guts to just say it outright," Takasugi said, knocking some ash from his pipe. "Most people in your situation would say something more flattering."

"I wouldn't say flattery is my best point," Shinpachi replied. "Blunt force trauma, maybe. But not flattery. Living with those two…"

"Gintoki," the man smiled. "…And the Princess Tomboy, yes?"

"Y-Yeah…" the youth said carefully. It suddenly occurred to him that he was talking with the enemy of one of the most important people in his life. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to talk about them too much.

Complaining should be fine, though. "Neither of them can take care of themselves properly," Shinpachi went on, sitting down with a sigh. "Kagura-chan, I can understand. She's only fourteen and wasn't looked after properly. But Gin-san is in his twenties already! He should at least be capable of pick up after himself! How did he last long enough to even meet me?"

"Well, Gintoki was always a little disconnected from his environment," Takasugi said. "He was quiet. Withdrawn. Detached from everything. He sat in class, but he never participated in it. As I recall, it took weeks for him to say one word to any of us."

The boy couldn't help the skepticism that showed on his face. "'Detached', maybe. But 'quiet' and 'withdrawn' aren't the sort of words I could ever associate with Gin-san. I just can't see that."

Takasugi breathed out a cloud of smoke. "Has he told you anything about his younger days?"

"I…Not really, no…" Shinpachi hated to admit. As much as he knew about Gin-san's personality, he knew next to nothing about what had shaped him. There were times when he would catch a glimpse of something when the man started to fight in earnest, but he had never seen Sakata Gintoki in a real battle. He and Kagura-chan had only been able to pick him up, take him home and patch him up afterwards.

"Hoh…Well, looking at you, that makes sense then."

"What does?"

Takasugi waved it off. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

Shinpachi blinked at this, confused, but decided he wouldn't worry about it if he didn't have to. He blinked again in surprise, realizing that he was actually holding a conversation with the man who Nizou the Manslayer had devoutly served in his last days. The man who had knowledge of Gin-san even before the Joui War, and long before he had met him. He was honestly unsure which of these held higher priority.

"So," the man cut into his thoughts again as he tapped his pipe against the edge of the floor. "How did things go with your father?"

The boy flinched and he felt the blood leave his face. Silence stretched between them. But somehow, it was enough of an answer.

"I see," was all Takasugi said, and Shinpachi actually felt the topic drop, leaving the air clear. "What were you doing on board my ship that day, if you don't mind my asking?" He inquired after a breath or two.

"Looking for Kagura-chan," Shinpachi replied, with surprising ease. "It's just like her to be getting into trouble at the same time Gin-san and I are fighting for our lives."

"Ah, yes…" The man smiled coldly. "Nizou did have that run-in with Gintoki that night. That was how he lost his arm. Nizou never did say just how Gintoki managed to take his arm off, although I;m not too…"

Shinpachi wondered if something showed in his face, as much as he tried to keep from looking tentative or abashed, Takasugi trailed off before his one eye widened in realization and shock.

"You…_You_ took his arm," he laughed, an odd sound, to be sure. "Now that is impressive! No wonder he wouldn't say anything! Very interesting!" It took him a long while, but Takasugi eventually caught his breath and leaned back with a contented sigh. "What do you do when you're _not_ chasing Gintoki's heels?"

"I…teach swordplay at our family dojo," he said carefully. It was odd how quickly the man had overcome his amusement at Shinpachi's accomplishment. "It's a slow business, but we do have students again."

"That's certainly interesting. A dojo in this day and age!" The man actually sounded impressed. Taking a deep breath of his pipe, he considered something in earnest before speaking again. "Tell me, do you teach reading and writing?"

That was certainly an odd question. "Uh…Sometimes, to those who need it. Most of the students are old enough to know how to read and write already, though…"

Nodding, Takasugi let his gaze wander to the far end of the grounds and continued smoking.

It was an awkward silence, or at least Shinpachi thought so. Maybe it was just because he was sitting next to Takasugi Shinsuke, of all people! Honestly, this day was just weird as hell!

"So…why are you here?" Shinpachi asked. "Do you come back here often?"

"This is the first time I've been here in over a decade," the man replied. "I haven't even thought about this place since then. I just suddenly recalled it, and decided to see it one last time." He finally looked at the boy for the first time since he sat down. "And you? What are you doing way out here?"

Shinpachi wondered that himself. He hadn't really thought about this place much either as the years passed. He had just wanted to escape his sister's futile attempts to cheer him up, all the while feigning ignorance of why he could never be happy on this day of all days.

He just wanted to sit somewhere quiet and let the hours pass until the day was over and done with. His eyes just happened to find the old path, and he had followed it to this abandoned shrine in the middle of the woods. This empty place that no one thought about or remembered. It seemed appropriate that he come here.

"Just getting away for a while, I guess," he finally answered. "It's been a long time since I've come here. It seemed as good a place as any to escape to."

Takasugi released a deep hum of interest. "The only places left to escape to are the places fallen to ruin and left to rot," he said. "These sorts of places are quiet. I would prefer it if the entire world was like this. No noise or movement. Everything just still and silent. That would be paradise."

Shinpachi stared at the one-eyed man with something akin to curiosity. He expected Takasugi Shinsuke to be harsh, disinterested and cold. The man was certainly chilly, but less like the Arctic Tundra that choked out life and more like winter that put everything to sleep for what seemed like a lifetime. He was most certainly capable of being harsh—downright malicious, in fact. Shinpachi had witnessed as much that day on the Kiheitai ship when he had cut off 'Elizabeth's' head. But his disinterest with his surroundings seemed to spring from an intense desire to change what he saw. It was oddly intriguing.

"You look confused about something, small fry," Takasugi pointed out. "Something on your mind?"

The boy considered just how he could answer. "You confuse the hell out of me," he replied. "Even more than Gin-san. But I would honestly really like to knock both your skulls together, just to see if I could cause a chain reaction of some sort that would end up destroying the universe."

Another laugh shook the man's frame, but this one he tried to contain. "Oh, you _are_ an interesting one!"

Hearing such a compliment from one of the most dangerous men in the world—if not the universe—actually made Shinpachi smile. He wished he could have laughed to ease all the tension in his body, but couldn't find that sort of strength or courage. He could speak plainly to Takasugi's face, but he didn't think he could laugh in his presence. Now that he thought about it, he had similar feelings back when he was only eight years old.

Shinpachi wished he had more time to unravel the mystery of this man, though he doubted such time existed, even before his cell phone chimed with a new text message. It was from Otae, simply saying:

**[Be home before it gets too dark. I want us to have dinner together.]**

Sighing, Shinpachi returned his phone to the pocket in his sleeve. He had honestly hoped to hide here, undisturbed by any further poking and prodding about the day. It had taken him a while to make it here, and he still had to take the train back home. He would likely be home in time, if he left fairly soon.

But he wasn't sure he wanted to leave. He honestly wasn't sure _how_ to leave. Sitting less than three feet away from Takasugi Shinsuke, he suddenly realized that he wasn't sure he could just stand up and walk away.

"Girlfriend?" The man inquired playfully as he exhaled another breath of smoke.

"My sister," Shinpachi corrected blandly. "She wants me home soon." He paused. "So…I guess this is…good-bye, then…"

Standing up, he offered a polite bow to the man before turning and heading towards the stairs. He half-expected Takasugi to draw his sword, cut off his head or his arm. He expected him to do something to get even with him for the incident with Nizou, or just to get back at Gin-san.

He never would have expected to hear Takasugi's voice, thick with suppressed amusement, as he asked, "Why don't you come with me?"

Shinpachi jerked to a halt and looked back at the man in pure shock. "What…?"

"You once said you wanted to fight the Amanto at Edo Castle," the man went on easily. "Why not come along with me and fight the world? It's pretty much the same thing."

The scary thing was that Shinpachi could tell the offer was genuine. As impossible as it seemed, after only a few words between them, Takasugi Shinsuke was actually willing to take the boy with him on his journey of self-destruction.

And as ridiculous as it was…Shinpachi could remember a time when such an offer was truly appealing to him. When he would sit in the dirt and just wish for an end to it. An end to all things. A deep rest, without dreams or nightmares. He could remember when he was comforted by the cold of such a wish.

But now…

Now, all that filled his head was the image of three people and large white dog standing together.

Sadaharu.

His older sister, Otae.

His little sister-daughter, Kagura.

Sakata Gintoki.

A warmth filled him whenever he thought of them. Whether it was the flush of frustration, or the burn of anger, or the comfort of love. That was perfect. That was enough.

Shinpachi turned to face the man still sitting on the dais, and offered him a bright smile, "Thank you…"

Takasugi blinked, confused by either the boy's expression or his gratitude.

"Thank you, but I can't," Shinpachi said. "Don't get me wrong, I don't really care for this country. You could take it and deep fry it or boil it, for all that it matters to me. But so long as _they_ are there, so long as I can reach out for them…" He shrugged, scratching his head and chuckling helplessly. "Maybe… Maybe if you had been the one to pick me up instead, I don't doubt that I would feel the same way about you. But I'm standing where I choose to be. So I can't follow you."

A silence stretched the place between them. It wasn't thick with tension or even particularly uncomfortable. It was just empty.

"Thank you again…" Shinpachi bowed, before turning away and continuing towards the steps. He didn't look back again. Nor did Takasugi move to stop him, or even speak again.

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Shinpachi didn't actually stop to let his breathing and heartbeat slow down until he got on to the train and was heading back home. He had barely allowed himself to relax on his trek back, and wondered if he would actually be able to sleep that night, or any night after.

He was shocked with himself. He had never thought he could ever speak to such a man like that. Admittedly, their brief conversation had been civil, tentative, even a little interesting. But Shinpachi knew that Takasugi was dangerous, and had refused him without even apologizing.

This was really turning out to be one hell of a day.

The sun had set by the time he came into view of his house, and the sky was shifting from fiery orange into the deep blue of night. He might have enjoyed the sight any other day. But he was willing to relax a little now that he was nearing the end of it all. He would eat dinner with his sister—hopefully something edible—maybe read something in his room and go to bed. That would have been enough for him.

Pushing open the gate, he allowed himself a sigh. "I'm hom—"

POP!

POP!

POP!

Confetti and glitter followed the three shots of noise, as well as a happy 'YIP!' from Sadaharu as he danced around Shinpachi in delight. Shocked, but quickly regaining his vision, the boy found Otae, Kagura and Gin-san standing before him with released confetti guns in their hands and wide smiles on their faces.

"Surprise!" They cheered.

Kagura suddenly hopped forward, carefully taking Shinpachi's glasses off. She then turned back around and began tossing the spectacles between Gintoki and Otae, happily cheering, "Happy Birthday, Shinpachi!"

Naturally, the boy found more than one thing wrong with this whole scenario that made him angry. First, they were treating his glasses like more of a person than he was. Second of all, they had all gone against his wishes to avoid any sort of celebration. Third, THEY WERE TREATING HIS GLASSES LIKE MORE OF A PERSON THAN HE WAS AGAIN!

"What are you—"

He was cut off as Gintoki carefully returned his glasses to his face, winking cheekily at him before Otae and Kagura grabbed his hands and pulled him around the side of the house.

"I told you—I DIDN'T WANT A PARTY! LET GO! WHAT ARE YOU—"

The entire yard was dark, the only light shining bright and gold from the open doors that lead to the dining room. It was there, in a room decorated all over with colorful streamers, laid out on the table was a veritable feast of hearty meats and vegetables, as well as a grand assortment of sweets. These all surrounded a cake with white icing and perfect strawberries with the right number of candles for Shinpachi's birthday.

Shinpachi was honestly struck speechless at the sight. It was bright and warm and inviting for anyone standing in the dark. He couldn't even cast his eyes to the ground to avoid it. It was as if the color and light refused to be ignored and held him steadfastly in place.

"Look, we know you didn't want a party or anything," Gin-san said as he walked up. "You have your reasons for not liking today. But this is for you Shinpachi, because we're all happy that you were born. None of us could very well get through the day without you."

Such a confession, such a declaration, was all it took for tears to rise up and blur the boy's already poor vision. He fought against it, he really did, but he finally had to take off his glasses to wipe his face on his sleeve. Though that did nothing to stem the tide of his tears, or even to hide him from sight, he felt better when the salty moisture cooled his face in the night air.

Because that was enough for anyone. Even someone who no one had ever celebrated, no even himself.

That was enough to make him happy to be alive.

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**The title for this shot comes from the fact that August 12****th**** is when the Perseid Meteor Shower is supposed to happen, as well as the general myth of Perseus' life and struggles that compare to Shinpachi's. I hope this wasn't too terrible or OOC for Takasugi. I really tried my best, and hope I haven't disappointed anyone.**

**THANK YOU.**


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